


we are green and grey (and red)

by penumbra_w



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, NO ACTUAL SMUT SURPRISE, Other, Scarification, Threesome - M/M/M, mentions of psychopathy, motherfucking spiked piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penumbra_w/pseuds/penumbra_w
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix is kinky, Locus is easy, and Sharkface is so fucking done.</p><p>EDIT: I CHANGED HIS NAME FROM DANTE TO TERRENCE. FIGHT ME.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are green and grey (and red)

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I uploaded this ages ago. Turns out it was just sitting in a ***public school folder***. Long sigh.  
> (inspired by an rp from months ago)
> 
> tumblr: actualagentwashington

It was doomed to fail before it even began.

Locus had warned Terrence – “Sorry. _Sharkface_.” – about setting rules for the two mercenaries. No sadism, no masochism, no touching old wounds. Of course Felix was going to bitch about it.

Nevertheless, Locus had still assumed that he would at least try to respect them.

Friday night, the door snapped shut.

“Honey, I’m home,” Felix sang before collapsing into Locus’ lap. “Where’s the nerd?”

“I believe you said you were home.”

The smaller man scoffed and flashed a smirk that Locus swore was predatory. He didn’t waste time, Felix lunged for his elder’s shoulders and wrapped himself into Locus’ mouth. Cold nails dipped under his collar, grazing every angry scar.

A sting shot down Locus’ spine. He flinched forward to find himself even closer to Felix, teeth glancing off of an obnoxious spiked tongue ring. Felix took it in stride and slung a leg around his waist, straddling Locus’ hips like he owned him.

Locus peeled the man off, holding him at arm’s length. “Sharkface will return soon. Price called him late into his office.”

“Then, fuck, why are we wasting time?”

Their lips clashed again and for a moment Locus melted into the touch, the taste of steel staining his mouth. He let Felix push his hands over the curve of his back, he rocked his hips against the sharp pressure in his crotch.

Felix paused, just for a second, staring into Locus with the coyest of grins. His smile only stretched when Locus groaned from the lack of touch and fell back into the sofa.

He instantly choked the noise down, shame finding his neck in shades of flushed red. That was a mistake, showing vulnerability to Felix was like baring your throat on the battlefield.

But, then again, it was too late.

Locus sighed, letting hot air pass through lips that he was sure were raw from contact. He raised his hips and drew his slacks down to his thighs, smothering a gasp where the waistband rubbed tightly over him.

Felix only glanced over the newly exposed briefs. Locus barely had a chance to hold his breath before Felix had swallowed his body into him again, strands of hair just tickling his cheek.

“Y’know it’s tempting, but I kinda had other plans.”

“What do y-“

His neck was in Felix’s mouth. It happened so quickly, Locus hadn’t even seen him move.

There was teeth, there was tongue, there was something a little sinister rocking up along his own tight skin.

And then there was _pain_.

It was no more than a needle prick, but it was hooked under Locus’ flesh. Deep enough to tear.

He should’ve known better, or anticipated the ridiculous hook on that piercing. Locus reached for the assailant’s chin, hoping to lever Felix away before he could cause any more damage.

Too late. The larger man winced as the opening tore under metal, and the floodgates were released. Felix had noticed, he must have, he lapped at his neck like some half-starved animal – like he was an addict and Locus was his new fix.

“Stop.” He tried for the word but it only came out as a whine.

Pressure was hardening in the body against him, it grew with every second. God, it felt hot but it really needed to come to a fucking end.

Fluid was leaving his body, thick and fast, maybe Felix had slit a carotid or an artery. Either way, it couldn’t be good.

Locus raised his hand to push the leech away. Too much blood. Blood heavy in his nose, his throat. The whole scent drenched the air and clouded his brain. Left Locus grasping at the end of his thoughts without piecing them together.

There was a gasp of cold air on his neck, and Locus’ eyes fluttered closed.

“You fucking idiot,” the words were different, too heavy for Felix’s voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

There was movement, thighs and fingers rolled away from his bare body.

“You’re home.” _That_ was Felix. The smile never seemed to leave his voice.

“Do you think this a joke? There’s a reason that… Shit. He’s bleeding.”

“Um, yeah.”

“Alright,” he sighed. “Get me some paper towels and a first aid kit.”

Felix groaned and got to his feet. “Don’t do me any favours, bitch.”

There was a moment of silence. Maybe he could hear Felix closing a drawer, or was it the throbbing in his head?

The heavy voice returned, with a softness that Locus hadn’t remembered hearing before. “Can you hear me?”

Locus nodded, which was pretty good considering the leak in the… caro-thread, arty… the _vein_ that Felix had severed.

“Okay. Can you talk?”

“…Yes.” He gurgled. It all felt like speaking through a throat full of sandpaper.

“And do you know my name?”

“Terrence.”

“Alright, so you aren’t completely braindead. When that good-for-nothing asshole gets back, we’ll clean you up and take a look at what happened.”

“I heard ‘asshole’. You fuckers talking about me?”

Sharkface didn’t respond, but the clatter at his feet told Locus that aid had arrived.

It was a tender gesture, if not a little romantic: Gentle fingers on his scalp, something dry mopping at the mess on his neck. Locus promised himself that he would thank the man later, if he remembered the moment at all.

Then his neck _burned_. Locus’ eyes shot open, then immediately closed. Too bright. Fuck, had the man punched a bullet in him?

“Shit, Felix. Can you come here?”

Locus could barely hear the rest, only the fire under his skin and the boiling in his brain.

A pair of lips connected with his, holding him in a slow kiss. Locus cocked an eyebrow but moved against the other’s mouth. It was a sweet thought, he decided. A distraction from the pain.

His neck flared again, sending the man moaning into what he guessed was Felix’s throat. He drew the smaller body into his lap, squeezing it tight to his chest.

The kiss broke and left Locus gasping into open air.

“Man,” Felix laughed. “We should do this more often.”

“No. No, we shouldn’t.”

“Aw, but look at him.” Locus didn’t have to see Felix to find the pout in his voice.

Sharkface might have responded, but Locus wouldn’t have heard it. There was enough sensation from the hands on his waist and the hard-on pressed into his stomach.

The pain had somewhat disappeared and Locus wanted to move, guide the roaming hands and mouth somewhere a little below the waist. But, fuck, he was tired.

There was a yelp as Felix was yanked away – probably by his collar, judging from the noise.

“Hands off.”

“Yo, what-“

“I’m taking him to bed.”

There was a silence as the firmness in Sharkface’s tone settled in, and Felix broke into a grin.

“Aw, hell yeah!”

“Let me rephrase.” Sharkface grinned even wider. “We’re going to bed. Without you.”

Locus cracked an eye open to catch the snarl twisting Felix’s face.

Sharkface only glided past him. “Have fun on the sofa.”

 

Locus had fallen asleep the moment he touched the sheets, but Sharkface didn’t have that kind of luxury.

Even with the body spooned right up against him, even with his arm hooked over Locus’ torso, Sharkface had his eyes trained permanently on the stitches lining the other man’s neck.

He would have to ask Felix about the rules, find out what he could do to keep them safe. No one could change Felix, the Counsellor had told him as much: that his psychopathy was genetic – not something learned from a sad childhood or a traumatic event.

Still, if he could control it…

There was a slow creak at the door, the living room glow slowly stretched through the bedroom

until it fell onto Sharkface’s open eyes.

Felix didn’t seem to care, he walked over to the bed and placed a kiss between Locus’ eyes. He curled into his side, seeming to fit perfectly.

Sharkface shot him a glare, Felix shot back a smile.

And when their fingers laced together over Locus’ shoulder, Felix’s eyes slid shut.

Maybe he wouldn’t need to go over the rules, after all.


End file.
